Crawling (A Shawn Hunter hurtcomfort fic)
by BradenAdams
Summary: Even when Shawn Hunter's Dad was around, he wasn't. Not in body, mind, or spirit. Now, out of Mr. Turner's care and released back to his father, Shawn is overwhelmed and headed for the worst. Will Corey and Turner be able to help him now? (Deals with mature themes such as abuse of a minor, self-harm, and overuse of alcohol on the dad's part.)
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Same Old Tired, Lonely Place.

Shawn Hunter looked down at his feet as he walked down dirty Philadelphia streets. He noted the trash on the pavement and stepped carefully in his leather boot clad feet, around it. Now normally when Shawn was in this part of town, he would be flashing his charming smile and flicking a hand through his wind-swept hair at any girl in sight. But today was not one of those days.

He thought it was kind of sad really, the way people left their town. There were empty beer bottles scuttled over the sidewalks, and a mix of brown and green glass sprayed in about the roads. He didn't blame anyone for not picking it up though, he surely wasn't going to do it. Besides, that kind of thing can make you depressed, having to look at all the nights people wasted out here, probably drinking alone. Not to mention, hungry.

As if on cue his stomach let out a low growl. Shawn couldn't quite remember the last actual meal he had. He thought to last night. His Dad had been smashed once again, and he had gone over to Corey's window and knocked a couple times, but he found no car in the driveway. He had thought to go over to Mr. Turner's house again but he really didn't want to bother him. After all, he was just supposed to be his english teacher, and to put all this new pressure on him was just not fair.

Shawn sighed a breath of cold morning air. It was colder outside then he previously led himself to believe. He had stood in a gas station bathroom for ten minutes, blowing on his fingers to keep warm, working himself up to buy some liquor and leave. He was yes, underaged, but Shawn had pulled it out at this particular gas station before. The only problem was, it wasn't the same cashier as before. And he had never stolen anything more than a pencil in his life. Though, you would get a different answer depending on who you asked.

He only had a couple bucks in his pocket, and he figured with the long walk back to his trailer park, he better warm himself up with something that would also happen to let him forget. But when it came down to it, he didn't have enough money anyways, even for the cheap, quicky mart liquor. He remembered trudging out of that store embarrassed and told himself he would never go back in.

He hated being remembered as "the poor kid", or "the street rat", or even the "trailer park trash" Shawn thought he really was. No, not thought, he knew. He knew he would end up just like his dad. Alone, miserable, and drunk off his face everyday by twelve.

Shawn shoved his hands deeper inside his leather jacket, trying to tighten it farther around his body. He shuddered as he passed a group of scary looking men standing in a vacant car lot. He felt himself walk a little faster and mentaly cursed at himself. This is why his Dad hit him, because he could never get it right. He wasn't supposed to be scared of things like other men, he was a man already, at least according to his Dad. Well, not yet, he wasn't but his Dad would surely make him one. His mind went back to the bruises he could feel forming on his thighs and stomach. He was so weak. He couldn't even cross a street by himself without getting freaked out. He was so sorry Corey had to put up with him sometimes.

His legs felt stiff from the cold and from walking for so long. He had been out since seven o'clock last night. After walking a few more streets, he decided to make his way back to his best friends house. With any luck they would still have breakfast out.


	2. Chapter 2, Practically Starving

Shawn Hunter crawled through Corey Matthews window and sat down on his bed. This was not a new thing for them. He could hear Eric's voice, in the next room, bickering with the younger of the two Matthews. He slowly made his descent down the stairs and rounded the corner to the kitchen.

The room was always brightly lit, either by the fake chandelier hanging above the kitchen table, or by pure sunlight. Now that he thought back on it, he could never much remember a time when the room, or the house for that matter, was dim and gloomy, much like his own. The touch of a mother. That was his guess. That was the reason things were so bright, and the house was always warm even when they had the ac blasting.

He was staring at a tablecloth, looking deep into the blue and red patterns when Corey first noticed him.

"Oh hey, Shawnie." Corey made his way over to the couch. "Hey." was all Shawn could think to say. Corey was mixing what he hoped was sugar into a bowl of cheerios, plopping down roughly onto the couch. Shawn looked at the pink colored bowl greedily.

Corey patted the spot on the couch next to him. "So, my mom's out of town tonight with my little sister and Dad. Just me and Eric tonight. You should come stay over." Shawn was relieved to hear these words, his mind grazing over the idea of feeling his father's large hands bruise his skin once again. He shivered. But he wasn't sure if he could stay. He wasn't even sure if Corey really wanted him to stay for that matter. He was probably just inviting him out of pity after all, he and Eric probably had way better things to do then hang out ith a loser like Shawn. He solemnly looked down at the couch and began picking a thread on the cuff of his sleeve.

"Shawn? Hellooo?" Corey waved a hand in front of his friend for the third time. "What's up with you today man? Day-dreaming about Angela again?" Corey chuckled and gave him a knudge with his elbow. Shawn looked up, slightly annoyed and still raw about Angie. "It's fine, i'm just kinda tired. Feeney had me up all night, studying for stupid World History." He couldn't look his friend in the eye as he lied, trying to hide the fact that he had actually been roaming the streets all night, cold, alone, and hungry, like he deserved. It was so embarrassing, he had to dig around next to a dumpster, looking for anything edible before finally giving up, turning up nothing but empty soda cans and things that would make even him, lose his appetite.

He blushed and non-chalantly swung bangs in front of his face, looking back down at the brown throw pillows. "Oh yeah, Feeney. He's been on a real rampage lately." Corey looked at Shwan with bright eyes, "Don't worry though, you always pull through man. Besides Turner would never let you fail."

Shawn's stomach dropped at the mention of his ex-roomate, and current English Lit teacher, Johnathan Turner. He hadn't ever really wanted him there. Of that he was sure. He could see it in the way he talked to Shwan, a look of tension on his face and his posture even more so, like he was just waiting for him to mess up. Waiting for the right moment to kick him out, send him off back to dad, or some other cracked out relative he hasn't yet met. "He already did.." Shwan muttered from underneath his hair, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to his chest. "What'd you say Shawn?" Corey asked him, stopping mid-sentence. He had already moved on to talking about some sort of video game.

Shawn remembered when he used to like trivial things like video games. It wasn't as often he could get lost in them anymore. Not like when he was with Mr. Turner. His dad didn't let him play games really. Or pretty much anything now that he thinks about it. He was normally made to sit on his bed quietly. But that was like a game all in itself, trying not to make Dad angry.

Sometimes he tried to remember a time when his father, Chet, had been nice and kind, like Corey's Dad. He couldn't.

He just knew he was going to get it if he went home tonight. His Dad had been on a bender pretty much all weekend and there was no way he was getting out of a punishment for leaving without telling him. He looked at his best friend. "Nothing. So what do you want to do first?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


	3. Chapter 3, Bruises

Chapter 3,

By the time it hit around nine o'clock that night, both the boys were exhausted. They had been racing through the house, attacking Eric with water balloons, played every video game in Corey's collection, and even played their favorite game of 'refridgerator roulette' To say the very least, Shawn was not hungry anymore.

He lay sprawled across Corey's bed, looking up at Eric's, one hand on his stomach in perfect satisfaction. It felt nice to hear the familiar growl of starvation pulling at him. For once, he felt happy. He always forgot how much fun Corey and he had together, in the time that he was away. But he supposed that's what his Dad was good at.

Corey sat up on his side, a couple of inches from where he lay with Shawn. "We should have Eric go down to Chubbie's and get us a couple pizza's." Shawn laughed. "How are you still hungry after shoveling all that garbage in your trap Matthews?" Corey shrugged and grabbed the baseball from off his nightstand. He tossed it into the air, standing and stretching. "I don't know, it's a talent really. Besides him and Anaya have been hogging up _our _bathroom, all night!"

Anaya was the pretty cocktail waitress Eric had meet the gentlemen's club down-town, where the dirty streets were. He remembered passing by it last night, the lot already vacant and no cars in sight. Shawn thought it looked better this way, no half-naked women strotting around carelessly for men to slobber over. Everyone thought Shawn was this some type of, womanizer, but he wasn't. Just the thought of his mom or God forbid, Angela, dancing and grinding up there, just to afford rent on Shwan's little trailer made him feel queasy inside.

He really missed Angela. They had, had a fight about two weeks ago. She says that Shwan can't seem to commit to her, and he guesses that was true. Every time he thinks he's ready, he just starts thinking. Thinking so much, he wanted to pull out his hair and cry. But Hunter's don't cry. Besides, he knew the truth. Angela would leave him anyways, just like his own mom had. She would get sick of Shawn, and there stupid trailer. He knew that's all he would be able to afford anyways. Or maybe even keep his own when his Dad finally kicked the bucket. At least then she wouldn't have to sit on strange men's lap for our rent money.

"Yeah, why not?" Shwan finally answered from his side of the room. Corey and Shwan counted all there money to see what they could get, Corey putting in twelve bucks and Shawn only four, but it was all he had to be fair. He didn't get allowance like Corey did. Not anymore at least, this last four was all the money he had left from his time at Turners. When they reckoned they had enough for at least one large pie, Corey stomped to the bathroom and knocked loudly.

"Eric!" He yelled through the door, only to no reply. "Oh Eric!" Behind the off white door, Eric gave a muffled groan. A few moments later, he opened the door a crack. He was in nothing but his unbuckled jeans and a white tank-top. Shawn had never seen Eric wear a belt before, he noted that he didn't like it. It made him look more grown up to him. More like his Dad.

"What do you guys want? Can't you see i'm kinda busy here?" Eric whisper-shouted, glancing back at Anya, who was sitting atop the counter. "Yeah, well, we're hungry." Corey crossed his arms. "What? You dorks have been eating all night" Eric, tried closing the door, but Corey pushed it back open. "Go down to chubbies and get us a pizza will you?" Eric scoffed and looked down incredulously at his younger brother. "No way." Corey smirked playfully. "Yes, way." He leaned in closer to Eric so only he and Shwan could hear him. "_If _you want me to keep our company a secret." He gestured back to Anaya. Eric grunted, and muttered, snatching the money from Corey's hands and slamming the door shut.

Shawn wasn't sure if he was coming back out to be honest, and for a fleeting moment he was a little bit sad he had wasted his last Turner money. Then Eric came out of the small room, leading Anaya behind him. He was shrugging on his jacket when he turned back to look at he boys. "Stay's between us right?" He said moving his index finger between him and Anaya and back to the boys. They both nodded and Eric sighed. "Brats." Then, the couple was gone, the door slamming shut on the way out.

"Finally! Jesus, I thought they were gonna be in there snogging all night!" Corey said, exasperated. He hopped up on the kitchen counter. "Well, we'd better take our turn to shower now that they're gone. He knows ho long they'll be next time."

Shwan thought about a shower, and turned a pale red. He couldn't really out his finger on the last time he had one. He imagined the hot water running over his body, and cleaning him free from the nasty Philly streets. It sounded nice.

"You can go first, you know where the towels are at."

The boys made there way upstairs and as Shwan grabbed himself a towel, Corey gave him some folded up pajamas, and went back downstairs to wait. As he was running the water he heard Corey's video game reboot from downstairs. Alone.

Shwan stripped his body of the filthy clothes, and left them strewn on the floor as he stepped in to the stream of warm water. He closed his eyes, and winced. He forgot he badly the water would burn his various bruises and cuts. He checked himself over. They seemed to be healing okay.

The bruises reminded Shawn of art sometimes. Mixtures of green, and blue, purple, with pale yellow. They were usually pretty easy to cover though. He had found some sort of powder, left over from a woman his Dad had over once. His Dad didn't normally have company like that. He had to stay in his room all weekend that time. He was sure his father would give it to him bad if he ever found out his son was wearing makeup. He sure felt weird for using it too. But if he didn't, Corey might see.

Here, in the shower, all the makeup run off his neck and shoulders, exposing more art. After a while, he decide he better get out and save some hot water for Eric and Corey. Though he guessed Eric would be preoccupied tonight. He wrapped the white, fluffy, clean towel round his waist and ruffled his hair gazing in the mirror. He was just about to put on the shirt Corey loaned him, when there was a knock and the door suddenly opened. "Shwan, just gonna grab my toothbrush real quick and shower in my mom's bathroom, it's getting kind of-" Corey looked up and saw Shawn. Covered in bruises, and cuts the boy looked so scared, and for the first time Corey didn't know the right thing to say. Corey felt tears prick at his eyes, what had happened to his best friend? "Shawnie?"


	4. Chapter 4, Push and Pull

Chapter 4: Push and Pull

The first thing that crossed Shawn's mind when as he walked into class the next day, was that he should never had gone to Corey's at all. He had one hand covering his right eye, a deep purple shiner underneath. He slumped down into his chair and thought over the events of the weekend.

Corey had seen him. Really seen him. He had said his name and looked at his half-naked body, shocked and scared. Something that Shawn had mistaken for disgust. Shawn had slammed the door on his friend, and leant against it with all his strength. After about fifteen minutes of Corey pushing from the otherside, the movement finally stopped. As both boys stood, catching their breath Corey finally spoke, "Shawn, I-" He breathed in deeply. "I'm so sorry." Shawn could hear sniffling through the thick wood of the door. "You never said a thing-" Corey sounded bewildered and upset.

Shawn felt a tear creeping down the corner of his eye. "I couldn't Corey, and n-neither c-can you!" Shawn started stuttering as mind started racing, a thousand bad ideas floated around at once. "You have to p-promise me Corey! Please!" Shawn cried in fear and anger that he had been so careless not to lock the door. Why had Corey had to had found out of all people? He slid against the door, hanging his head in shame. He clung to his towel and his feet pushed back against the fuzzy green carpet. He was so embarrassed. He hugged his knees tight to his chest and more tears came.

"Shawnie, no. No, no, no." He could hear Corey get up. He paced outside the door. "Shawn, I have to tell someone, I have to get you help. You're my best friend." This only made the boy cry harder. His Dad would kill him, he was sure of it, he would beat him so hard he would die.

"Shwan, please open the door. Please." He wouldn't. What had he done to deserve this kind of shame?

Corey sat there for what felt like hours trying to convince his friend to come out. He told him everything would be okay, and that they would call his parents together, or the cops, or even Mr. Turner, but Shawn never opened the door. Not even a crack.

At least not until later that night when the house was silent. He could no longer hear Corey moving around, or Eric and Anya downstairs. For once he was glad his Dad had taught him how to be quiet all these years. He gathered his clothes that lay scattered on tiled floor, and he dressed silently. Then he carefully cracked the door open, and cringed when it made a rather loud squeak. He waited in the doorway counting backwards in his head. _5,4,3,2,1. _No sounds. He opened it further.

There Corey was, laying in the floor a little ways away from where Hunter stood. He felt bad that his friend had to sleep on the hardwood floor. Then he remembered that if he had come out, it would have been a lot worse for them both. His father would have no doubt come for Corey too. Shawn's face darkened in anger as he realised how much he loved Corey and that he couldn't risk hurting him. He stepped around Corey's sleeping body carefully and looked back once at the top of the stairs. He wondered if Corey would ever be friends with him again. He doubted it.

On his way out the front door, he saw a pizza box on the counter from Chubbies. He shrugged his jacket back on. He wasn't surprised Eric hadn't came up to check on Corey and him. He hoped Corey didn't tell Eric.

He gave one last longing look at the house and sighed. He wished he was Corey sometimes. Even if he had to sleep on the floor every night, he would still be warm, and fed, and protected. Most importantly, he would be loved. Shawn knew it was time to go when he felt tears in the corner of his eyes one last time that night, he refused to cry again.

Shawn was brought back from his thoughts when the bell rang and Mr Turner walked into class. He tried to squish down farther into his desk and leaned over his book so the man couldn't see his eye. Hopefully it wouldn't be too suspicious since he normally tried to avoid making eye contact with him anyway, he didn't want to feel the same awkward tension that had followed him all throughout Turner's house.

As he started half-heartedly following along in their books, the classroom door slammed shut and everyone looked up except Shwan. Until he heard Corey's voice, "Sorry I'm late Mr. Turner." And he felt Corey's eyes pierce his back fiercely from the no longer vacant desk behind him.


	5. Chapter 5, Tough Guy

Chapter 5, Tough Guy

Corey stared at Shawn's head in front of him. He couldn't focus on the History lesson, he could only think of his friend. He had woken up on the floor early this morning, somewhere around four o'clock. The bathroom door was open when he went to look for Shawn and he knew that he had run away. Nonetheless, he had still checked every room and open space in his whole house.

Corey wondered chewed on his pencil and wondered why he hadn't seen this coming in Shawn. He never seemed hurt, never cried, never complained about anything at home, he had never said a single thing. The whole thing made him want to scratch his head.

He surveyed Shawn's body. His head was low, almost nose to nose with his history book that Corey knew he wasn't reading. He was wearing the same thing from yesterday. Black boots, a gray flannel, gray hoodie, and blue jeans that sagged on him.

Corey never realized exactly how small Shawn's body was until he had seen him standing battered and bruised, half naked in his bathroom. He knew his friend was probably feeling embarrassed. Shawn never cried in front of him before. Not once. And last night Corey wasn't sure if he would ever stop. It was like he saved up the tears from all the hurt he was getting from, what Corey assumed was his father. And then last night at his house, he just kind of cashed all the hurt in.

He bit his lower lip, and looked back down at his book. He had to tell someone. It was the right thing today. He couldn't stand seeing Shawn in so much pain and he was scared to lose his best friend. He didn't want to betray him, but he had to tell someone. Corey looked up and saw Shawn hug himself tightly, his arms had a form grip on both elbows, his head bowing down even further.

He tried to think back on all the times Shawn had come to school in bruises that he had said came from fist fights with strangers, football, and from working at the shop. He had believed then without a doubt in his mind that was where the cuts and odd colored marks had originated but now, he wasn't so sure he believed him. Corey's eyes started to prick back up with tears. What would happen when Shawn goes home tonight? He couldn't let him go. He couldn't.

Corey was trying to set a plan in motion in his head, weighing out the pro's and con's. But in the end, he couldn't think of a single thing that would convince Shawn to come back over to his house after we he saw. He bit his fingernail and pondered ust telling Mr. Turner, or even Feeney after class. He decided he better wait, at least talk to Shawn first.

The bell soon rang, and everyone was packing up to leave for their lunch period. Before Corey could even put his textbook back in his bag, Shawn was already half way out the door.

Turner turned to Corey looking confused and mildly concerned. He gave him a look to say, "what was that about?", and Corey just shrugged and chased after him, barely slinging his book-bag over his shoulder.

He finally cornered Shawn by the drinking fountain just as the hallway was clearing. He tried to talk gently. "Shwan?" He wouldn't look at him. "Shawnie, I just want you to know I didn't tell anyone about..ya know, what happened." Shawn looked down. "Really, you didn't have to run out like tha- OH MY GOD SHAWN, WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR FACE!"

SHwan had finally looked at Corey, the big bruise taking up half of his face in full view to him. "Well, if you're gonna know, I guess you can see the worst of it." He muttered and shifted uncomfortably. "Shawn, oh God Shawn. Did your Dad do this to you?" He shook his head. "It doesn't matter Core." He turned to walk away and Corey put his arm to stop him. He flinched for a second and Corey noticed this, pulling his hand away slowly. His best friend really thought he was going to hit him? He had never hit anyone on his entire life!

"What are you talking about? Of course it matters!" Corey didn't know how to stress this enough. "Why did he do this to you Shawnie?" He wouldn't answer straight away, just stared down at Corey's sneakers. "Shawn please? I won't tell anyone but you have to tel me at least, i'm your best friend." Corey looked SHwan in the eye. He sighed.

"Has it ever occurred to you that i'm just clumsy Corey?" Corey scoffed. "Clumsy? Are you kidding me? I'm more clumsy than the both of us and I don't look like that. That's bullshit Shawn, and you know it." Shwan rolled his eyes, "Football then, there happy now?" He once again tried to leave but Corey boxed him in. "Football really Shawn? How many other excuses do you have lined up for that? Huh?" He pointed to his eye. "You might have been able to fool me then Shawn but, nu uh, no more, not now!" Shawn was avoiding Corey's gaze. "Besides if it really was football Shawn, then why did you ask me not to tell anyone? What would there be to tell?" He bit his lip and looked at Corey. He knew he could see right through him.

Just then the boys heard the voice of a girl travelling down the hall. "Corey! Shawn!" It was Topanaga, their other best friend, and Corey's former girlfriend. Her long blonde hair was flowing behind her, and she was wearing a bright smile. Corey and Shawn both knew she would be worried if he saw his eye, and Shawn didn't want anyone else finding out about this.

He quickly pulled up his grey hood and shouldered his readjusted his air for extra coverage.

"HI guys!" Se said cheerily. She gave Corey a peck on the lips. "Shawn what's up with te grim reaper costume?" She laughed and tried to look at Shawn. Shawn hated to be a jerk, especially to his friends, but it was time to do one of the things he was best at. Act tough.

He pushed past them both like he was mad, and stormed into the lunch room, the doors swinging shut behind him with a loud bang.

"Woah! Didn't mean to hit a nerve there!" Topanaga said in awe. Corey looked down at her grimaced. "Just a bad day." He lied, knowing full well it was more than one bad day. He put his arm around Topanaga and wondered what she would do. She would probably have the perfect answer. He let out a breath. "Let's go i'm starving." She sang, and dragged him by his arm behind her. Corey was willing to bet Shawn was too.


	6. Chapter 6, From Way Down Here

*TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER GUYS! TRIGGERS ARE FOR ABUSE OF A MINOR*

Chapter 6, From Way Down Here

Shawn finally arrived at his front door, his feet felt like lead and he was cold. He started for a second at his front door. He was praying today would be a good day for his Dad. He took a breath and swung the door open, stepping through.

The first thing Shawn noticed was that the place was more of a wreck than usual. And mind you, that was hard to do. There were things scattered across the floor, from books, to clothes, plates, to blankets and bed sheets. If someone didn't know better they probably would have guessed they'd just moved.

Her could hear his father in the back room, his room, rummaging through his things. He was making his way around the mess on the floor and to his room when his Dad came into the room, nostrils flared and face red with fury.

"Where is it boy?" His voice sounded hoarse, maybe like he had just woken up from a nap. He probably had, maybe blacked out again. Shawn wouldn't doubt it. "Where's what?" He said.

His Dad advanced toward him until he was right in his sons face. "Where is my money, you son of a bitch?!" Shawn gulped. He honestly hadn't taken his dad's money, to tell the truth his father had probably drank it all away.

"WELL?" His father growled at him slamming the palm of his hand into the thin wall of their trailer. "D-dad, I don't-" 

A firm smack was delivered to Shawn's right cheek. "DON'T YOU DARE TELL ME YOU DON"T KNOW BOY. DON"T YOU LIE TO YOUR FATHER, YOU HEAR ME?!" His Dad was so close to his own face he could feel the heat of his sour smelling, alcohol ridden breath. All of Shawn's instincts were telling him to grab his cheek but he knew better. It would only make it worse for him. "Yes sir." Shawn choked back tears. "You better quit that crying before I give you something to cry about." Shawn hated when his Dad said that to him.

He gave one more sniffle and directed his eyes on the floor. "So, where is my money faggott huh?" Shawn didn't know what to say, so he just said nothing at all. He decided it would be best if he just took the beating and then he could go to bed and sleep until tomorrow.

When Shawn didn't answer him, Chet picked him up, his bag falling to the ground with a thump.

He looked into his sons teary eyes and all that stared back was anger. There was nothing there. "Not talking huh boy?" He shook Shawn in frustration. "What did you do steal it right out of my own pockets?!" He threw Shawn down in contempt. He slammed his fist against the wall next to Shawn. "YOU DISGUSTING LITTLE RAT." His eyes seemed to be seething out evil. He grabbed Shawn by the ear and Shawn whimpered a little, he couldn't help it. "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" He dragged Shawn by the ear, his son quietly crying all the way. Shawn couldn't tell what his dad was doing he had never done anything like this before. He tried to look past his Dad's lower body and see where he was being dragged to.

Shawn felt his body surge with panic and his eyes immediately brimmed with a hot flow of tears when he saw where his Dad was taking him. He was dragging Shawn to their old, rusty looking woodstove.

He thought he would drop Shawn before they got any closer, but he just kept going and Shawn was bawling his eyes out trying to fold in on himself at his father's feet. The smell of smoke and soot was seeping into Shawn's lungs and choking him up. Chet grunted and grabbed Shawn by the scruff of his neck and said, "I'm only going to ask you one more time boy." He knew he should say something, anything but all he could do was sob loudly and cough. He wanted to scream and yell at in his Dad's face that he didn't have his money. Or at least think of a good lie, an excuse, anything, but it seemed like the words just trapped in his throat, swirling around with all that smoke.

When no response came from him, his father yelled obscenities and kicked over the bud light bucket they were using to store the ashes. Clouds of ash and dust rose from the floor and Shawn couldn't see his own hands. HIs eyes blurred and more tears came, but this didn't stop his father from grabbing Shawn's head and putting it two inches away from the scolding hot stove top. Shawn scratched at the floor with his boots pointlessly, and the heat rising from the stove was already broiling.

It all seemed to happen kind of fast, but slow all the same. He saw a tear drip off his nose and onto the stove. It made a sizzling sound and dissolved within less than a second. Then the pain came. His father had put the side of his face to the stove and his right ear was pressed directly onto it. The horrific sizzling sound continued and Shawn screamed. His father held him there for three counts. Then dropped his son to the ash covered floor, like he had been burned himself.

His Dad left the house after that. Shawn lay there all night long, to hurt and afraid to move. The smell of burning hair was coming from the side of his face that was pressed against the stove, but Shawn was too scared to look in the mirror and see the damage that was done.

He placed a hand delicatley over his ear and wept for the last time that night.

While Shawn was down there, the last thing he saw that night before he fell asleep on that filthy floor, was something green wadded up underneath their sofa. He squinted his eyes, too tired to move his head to look. It was a wad of money. His Dad's money. He let out a very soft, sad, chuckle. How ironic.


End file.
